• The broken whisper of a promise,
    Ways upon my soul.
    For I have nothing left to give,
    Except a bit of coal.

    The children come with optimism,
    But then they see my face.
    The light is gone beneath those eyes,
    As they look just in case.

    For there will never be a gift,
    That I can give them back.
    For I have nothing left to give,
    With everything I lack.